Conroy's Tale
by Tebbit
Summary: Conroy is an outcast, abandoned by his unknown parents and left for dead. Will he ever discovery who he is, and will he survive the hardships of life ahead? Chapter 8 is finally up!
1. A New Beginning

Conroy's Tale 

All was silent in the town of Bakersfield, as silent as a mouse creeping about. At the corner of Turner Street and Greenhouse Lane, two small apartments met, creating a skinny, dark alleyway between them. The silhouettes of two cats emerged from the crowded alley and into the damp, bleak night. The two creatures spoke. "We should have never left him," whispered the she-cat, cleansing her soft paw with her tongue.

"We cannot take care of him. It's for the best," replied the he-cat in a soft, unfamiliar tone. The two trotted on. They had just abandoned their very sick, very tiny kitten. It would not have survived the night. Neither did the she-cat, for the next day, she was dead. The he-cat was left to find another life, forcing all his memories away from those fateful days. Little did he know that within the confines of the alleyway where he left his child, the kitten had survived…

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Through the darkness of the alley, no one could have noticed a large, cardboard box lying at the back wall, soaked and shredded from the fore night's rain. Within it lay a wet newspaper, torn slightly around its edges. Beneath the paper was a tiny kitten, curled into a tight ball. The kitten shivered uncontrollably, attempting to keep itself warm from the dampness of the evening. A gust of wind snatched the newspaper away, revealing the teeny fur ball. His light gray fur had been ruffled and soaked by the showers the night before. Around his right eye was a mysterious dark gray patch, stretching from the top of his circular head to below his long ear. Finally, the kitten opened one of his deep, ocean blue eyes to the world.

Although the creature was a baby, he could still think and speak his mind as if he were much, much older. As he glanced about shakily, his vision became clearer. _Where am I? _He thought, slowly but surely rising onto his paws. _How did I get here? This odd place seems strangely familiar. Maybe I should look about more. _He slowly walked about inside the box, inspecting his surroundings. Listening intently for any signs of life, he edged forth until he was against the inside wall of his home. Using all of his might, he leapt up, catching the top of the box with his paws. He pulled his head up and looked around.

Below him was what seemed to him as a river of gray, rocky material. Dark, high fortress walls surrounded him on all sides, save for a small opening ahead of him. Glancing upward, the kitten spotted a glowing orb skimming the edge of a wall beside him. It was so bright, however, that the kitten shut his eyes and turned away. _I must remind myself to not look at this strange orb that hangs above during these hours, _he thought. Suddenly, he lost his balance and began to slide forward. He let out a soft, "Meow," as his back legs slipped over the edge, sending him tumbling down for what seemed like an eternity. A deep puddle of rain broke his fall, drenching his fur. The kitten kicked and thrashed, attempting to escape the puddle. As he finally climbed out, he shook away the liquid and surveyed the new territory.

He lifted his paws up and down, unfamiliar with the new texture that was beneath his feet. He carefully pawed his way toward the opening of the dark corridor, searching for breaks in the ground. It seemed solid enough, yet unnatural. The kitten kept moving, but as he did, his left paw slipped over something: a small pebble of gravel. _What is this? _He thought as a strange, new feeling overtook his paw. _It pains me. I wish it would go away. _As he put his paw down again, the feeling stopped. He had an undoubted feeling that he was going to experience this pain yet again. He had finally reached the outside of his linear prison. A strange light filled the area, revealing tall poles with even more light shining down from them. He also noticed tall, squared structures with many glowing eyes. The shimmering orb in the sky was as bright as ever.

The kitten quietly trotted about, thinking, _this strange place is new and exciting, but it frightens me. I wish I had a home or some food. My belly aches. _As he made his way forward, he came upon a large, black river that stretched its way across the area. It was completely still, so it could not have been water. The kitten slowly reached his paw down to touch the black material, only to find that it was completely solid. He stepped down, making sure not to step on any more rocks for they were scattered about everywhere now. Leaning upward on his haunches, the kitten perked his ears. Something was approaching. He could not only hear it, but also smell and feel it coming. He was right in its path.

A light erupted on the horizon, blinding the small kitten. He nearly fell backwards as he stumbled about on the pathway for whatever beast was drawing near. The creature's lights finally fell over the kitten and he could no longer see. The beast began to screech and whine as if it had found it's pray. The kitten fell to the ground, blinded, waiting to die. The screeching stopped. The beast's onslaught had ended. It's lights flickered and died. Out of nowhere, a flap in the creature's side opened and yet another stranger appeared. Unlike its huge screeching companion, this stranger was tall and skinny; a biped, the kitten guessed. It slowly started forward, approaching him. The kitten rose to his paws and crouched backward. He was horrified of what this thing might do to him. _Stay back, please. Spare me! Spare me! _Although the kitten knew this creature couldn't hear him, he pleaded and begged, but it kept coming. Suddenly, it let out a strange sound he had never heard before. It's lips moved, creating its low-pitched snarl. The kitten could not take it.

He began to pant. Sweat dripped from the kitten's brow, falling to the pathway of beasts below. His vision grew blurry and all that surrounded him became blood red in color. His hair began to stand on end. His paws stung him as razor sharp needles of bone erupted from them. The kitten, although small, had become dangerous. The large creature slowly began to back away, still moaning in his strange tongue. The kitten edged forth, hissing and wailing. By instinct, he crouched low onto his stomach, waiting for the right moment, and pounced. He swung his newfound claws wildly, ripping and tearing at one of the creature's legs. Blood poured down onto the ground, creating a puddle. The stranger leapt into the confides of his beast-like companion and fled. The pathway rumbled as the two sped away.

The kitten's vision returned to normal, leaving him dazed. His claws retracted. His hair flattened against his thin body. He limped away from the path back onto the gray texture that he stood on once before. There, on the pavement, the kitten's view blackened, and he fainted.

Author's Note: If none of you could figure out what some of the objects I mentioned were, here's a short list:

Beast: An automobile

Stranger: Person

Orb: Moon (Easy Guess)

Linear prison: Alleyway

**Chapter 2 coming up sometime this month.**


	2. Meeting the Crew

Thunder echoed gloomily in the distance as rain pounded the concrete on the streets of Bakersfield. A dog howled a saddened hymn. A street lamp flickered and died, casting shadows over the streets. Lying on his side was a small, gray kitten, breathing heavily as the rain slowly drowned him. His fur, damp and cold, flattened against his slender form, causing him to look skinnier than he really was. His tiny paws thrashed back and forth as he fought unconsciously. Suddenly, a dark, enormous figure strode past, glancing toward the defenseless cat. It was the shadow of a very large, very hungry black dog, long, angular ears perked, listening… looking for a midnight meal. As it made contact with the seemingly lifeless kitten, it gritted it's teeth, growling, "Hmmm, fresh meat." The dog crept forward. Just as it dove for the kitten's body with its gigantic jaws, a voice cried out.

"Paws off, you filthy mutt!" A shadow dropped from a nearby lamppost, crouching low as it landed. The dog slowly turned his head, baring his gleaming, knife-like teeth. The shadow spoke again, "He's my problem, not yours."

"What could you possibly mean?" joked the dog, placing one of his paws on the kitten's small skull. "You don't need this, he's practically skin and bone."

"Then why would you?" answered the shadow, stepping into the light of the moon. The shadow formed into a full-grown cat, his deep, red fur glistening with rain. His sharp, yellow eyes burned in the night as they darted back and forth. Holding up one of his paws, he retracted a single claw, waving it to and fro in a dancing taunt. The dog became infuriated by the lack of fear he saw in the cat's eyes. Shaking his fur, the dog began to bark madly, stepping closer as he approached his nemesis. The cat only stared back, a humored smirk lining his face. The dog leaped.

The cat, whose agility sparked like lightning, dashed to his left as the dog bounded toward him. Wasting no time in taunting the mutt again, the cat leaped high into the air, bringing his knees up to his chest. As he fell forward, he retracted the rest of his claws and waited for the right moment. The dog turned to face him, snarling and drooling as if he were rabid. The cat found his spot, and swiped his claws. Blood spattered out across the pavement as the dog's nose opened. He yelped, trying to hold the blood in as it dripped. The blood mixed with the rain, creating an eerie red mist. The cat grinned, waving as he lifted the small kitten onto his shoulder. The dog's eyes rolled backward as he lost consciousness. He fell, his skull slamming onto the concrete. The red cat dashed off down a side alley, carrying the small kitten with him…

_Everything was dark. So dark, and blurry. Was he alive? Was he dead? The kitten could not tell; he only saw a dark figure pacing back and forth. It turned, watching him with glowing eyes. It came nearer and began to speak. "You ok?" the figure asked, putting what seemed to be a paw on his chest. The kitten opened his mouth, but he was so weak, he could not even utter a word. The figure suddenly pushed down on the kitten's chest, forcing some kind of liquid up into his throat. The kitten coughed profusely, spurting water into the air._

The small cat took a large, deep breath as his air passage became clear of rainwater. The darkness around him faded away, revealing what seemed like a cellar. The room was square and dark, cobwebs hanging in the corners. Metal lined the floor, creating a slick, shiny surface. Wooden beams hung above, supporting whatever building it was beneath. Barrels among barrels lined the walls, small spouts ejecting from their centers, dripping a shimmering, brown substance. Suddenly, a voice spoke from his right.

"Hello, Earth to dog meat! Are you paying attention, boy?" The kitten turned to face his host. He instantly recognized the figure as the cat that saved him from the giant dog.

"Oh… yeah," answered the kitten, speaking to the opposing wall as he looked about again. He felt a gentle knock on his head. He turned about to see the cat again, urging him to pay attention.

"Ok, kid, tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine." The cat placed his hands on his hips, waiting for a reply. The kitten opened his mouth, trying to say something. The kitten knew there was a problem with telling him who he was. So, trying to explain the situation as best he could, he spoke.

"Well… there's a problem with that, sir. Ummm, you see, I… don't have a name." The cat just stared, waiting to see if the sentence was some kind of joke. Seeing that it clearly wasn't, the cat began to laugh hysterically, slapping his knee. A small tear dripped down his cheek as he continued his laughter. Finally coming to a stop, he looked back at the no-name kitten, who was hiding behind the bench he was sitting on. Rising to his feat, the kitten shrugged softly. The cat gave him a slightly concerned gaze. "What, were you born yesterday?" The cat scratched his head, puzzled.

"Actually…" said the kitten. The cat raised his paw, stopping the kitten from further answering his question. The cat sighed, tapping his foot on the metal flooring, thinking. If he was gonna give this kid a name, he would have to be responsible for him.

"Ok… listen up, kid," said the cat, watching the small cat as he perked his ears. "I have ten names listed in my mind right now. Pick a number between one and ten." The cat didn't really have the names in his mind; he had secretly written them on the back of his hand with a pen whilst the kitten wasn't looking. The kitten looked about intently, thinking in his own way. The kitten's expression lightened.

"Nine!" he exclaimed. The cat looked about on his paw, searching for what name number nine was. He saw it. Written there on his hand was the name, "Conroy." The cat looked back at the kitten, who bounced lightly up and down, excited to hear his new name.

"Ok, kid, your name is… Conroy!" The red cat folded his arms, waiting for some kind of response. The gray kitten said nothing, scratching the darker gray patch over his right eye. "Don't you care?" inquired the red cat. "You wanted a name, didn't you?"

"Of course I care… I'm just not used to my name yet," mumbled Conroy, jumping down from the small bench he was seated on.

"Well then, ki-… Conroy," the red cat stuttered, taking in the fact that he would have to get used to calling him Conroy, "I said I would tell you my name, so here. The name's Thomas, but call me Tom." Conroy smiled, knowing that he was actually going to have a life after all. Tom patted him on the head before walking away, beckoning Conroy to come with him. He hurriedly tagged behind, following Tom up a short flight of stairs. Again there was another flight of stairs, but Tom switched directions, slinking through a crawl space to his left. "C'mon!" Tom's voice came through the hole, calling Conroy to him.

"Coming!" Conroy responded, taking a deep breath and squeezing into the space. It was not long before he reached the other side, standing up on two legs while trying to balance. There, sitting at a large, round table, were two other cats who looked about Conroy's age. Tom introduced one of them as he sat up.

"Ok, this is my son, Doug," said Tom as he pointed to a bright red cat sitting atop a small cushion. He approached Conroy. Doug smiled brightly, waiting to see how his new friend would respond. Conroy sniffed lightly, taking care not let Doug know he was smelling his scent. He seemed friendly enough, so Conroy smiled back. Doug held out one of his paws and Conroy took it. They shook softly, both saying, "Hi!" to one another. Tom pointed to a tiny blond cat sleeping soundly next to the table. "That's Chip, one of Doug's friends. We don't want to disturb him." Conroy and Doug chuckled quietly as a small bubble expanded and retracted in his nostril. "He was abandoned on the streets, too ya know," whispered Tom. "We found him surrounded by a pack of strays. Tough fight, too, and I've got the scars to prove it!"

Doug covered one side of his mouth as he said, "Don't ask him to show you his scars, I'm serious!" Conroy snickered. Tom blushed brightly through his already red fur.

"Well, Conroy… welcome home," said Tom, putting a hand on Conroy's shoulder. Conroy looked up and grinned. He finally had all he wanted: a home, friends, and most importantly, a family.


	3. Two Years Later

**Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter are copyright of me. "Out Tonight" is copyright of Jonathan Larson. Edited version is copyright of me. I do not own Catscratch or any of its main characters. Enjoy!**

Journal entry #9

It's been two long years since I remember meeting my buddies beneath the "Tavern Roots Bar" where they store all the root beer… which sounds pretty damn good right about now. Anyway, a bunch of the other guys I know are "visiting" for a while whilst Tom is out. (If he ever finds out he will kill us all) It's just gonna be us and those huge bottles of sweet-

Conroy's journal entry was cut off as a voice cried out below, saying, "Ok, boys! I'm going out for a while, so Doug's in charge! Be good, no fighting, and don't let Chip wander off!" Conroy slowly rolled his eyes in calm sarcasm. Although repeating himself wasn't necessary, Tom would say it every week before he walked out the door to find more food. Slowly shutting his journal and slipping it beneath his mattress, Conroy walked through the dusty curtain that provided privacy in his own little room. Although the room was… cozy, there was room for him to move about. Not only did he have a bed, but a small skylight that could be opened or closed with a flap. No one in the house knew, but Conroy also used the skylight to get onto the roof; the hatch actually led all the way up through the building. The floor creaked slightly beneath him as he strode across the floorboards. He was always afraid that his small mattress was going to come crashing down on someone's head. Tom kept reassuring him that the floor was sturdy, but Conroy wasn't so sure when he saw rot attacking the underside of his room a week before.

As he walked away from his room, he spotted Chip sneaking about on the bottom floor, looking around cautiously as he made haste toward the root beer barrels with an empty bottle. Conroy rested his elbow on the banister of the balcony, laying his head in his hand while smiling viciously. As Chip drew nearer to the barrels, Conroy began to silently strum his fingers upon the banister, slowly counting to himself the time it would take for Chip to reach his destination. Just as Chip began to pour some root beer from the spout, Conroy took a deep breath and yelled, "Stop! Thief!" Chip winced and ducked his head as he spurted root beer all over his fur, dying it light brown. The root beer bottle flew high into the air, crashing down on the wooden floor as it shattered. Conroy roared with maniacal laughter as Chip struggled to shake his fur dry.

"Conroy!" he shouted, wringing out his ear with his paws, "You did that on purpose! Just wait tell I tell Tom-" Conroy interrupted abruptly, countering back on Chip's argument.

"… Just wait tell I tell Tom that **you've **been stealing root beer from the barrels again!" Conroy grinned. Chip laid his long ears back, looking in a different direction. Conroy walked to a small pole leading to the bottom floor and slid down with ease. A voice from his left broke the silence.

"Hey, what's going on, guys? I heard a bottle shatter," Doug had just walked in the room to notice Chip drenched in root beer. Doug's red fur began to stand on end. "What did I say?" he said calmly, yet firmly. "No screwing around! We gotta leave no trace of the party tonight while Dad's out getting us food." He looked over at Conroy, who was leaning up against the pole that stretched to his room above. He had his arms crossed and a lazy expression lined his face. "Did you have anything to do with this? Conroy?"

"Maybe…" he joked, scratching his head with his paw, ruffling his fur. Doug edged closer, giving Conroy a stern gaze. Conroy returned the expression, and then laid his ears back as he confessed. "Ok, I shouted as he tried to steal some root beer, and… yeah," Doug slipped a small smile at Conroy's honesty.

"Thank you…" said Doug in a calmer tone. "Now, if you would be kind enough to wash Chip off, I'm gonna clean up the glass and the puddle." Chip looked up, shaking his fur.

"What can I do?" asked Chip, holding his arm in the air. Chip had always been enthusiastic about helping around the house, or in his case, cellar. Doug looked back over at him.

"Let me see," mouthed Doug, tapping his chin with his paw. "Ok I've got it… hold still in the tub." Chip frowned and stalked away to turn on the water for his bath. Doug and Conroy snickered silently. "Well, what are you waiting for, Con? Get to work!" said Doug, throwing Conroy a sponge and a brush from a nearby cupboard.

"Yes, sir!" answered Conroy, catching the sponge and brush in each had. He walked off to catch up with Chip. Doug set to work, getting out a small rag and a brush for the glass. Thus, the three cats worked away, and in no time, it was party time…

Over the next two hours, more and more cats from around the neighboring area began to appear, each with a huge grin slapped on their faces. They couldn't wait to party, and neither could Conroy, Chip, and Doug. Each cat also carried many empty glass bottles. This was because when they were invited, they were advised to bring their own bottles, just so Tom wouldn't notice that a couple dozen bottles might be missing from his cupboard. Conroy climbed back up into his room while the cats waited for him. As he came back down the pole, he had in his hand a jukebox, fully loaded with music and ready to be played.

As the music started playing, everyone in the room went wild. They started dancing and rolling about on the floor like pigs in a mud puddle. It was unexplainable chaos. As the atmosphere began to cool, the cats settled down, some just chatting or dancing silently. As the final guest arrived, the party was in full progress. Conroy heard chanting from a nearby table and walked over to see the commotion. The chanted words became clear, saying, "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" It was a chugging contest, eight to ten cats sitting in a circle while one chugged a huge bottle of root beer in the middle. Conroy grinned and waited patiently for the cat to finish. Unfortunately, just as the cat began to finish, a fountain of root beer spurted from his mouth, creating a puddle of regurgitated liquid on the floor.

"Ugh… nasty," whispered Conroy. But, he wasn't afraid, because he knew he was the best drinker of root beer who ever lived. Just as another feline began to climb on top of the table, Conroy leaped in front of him, taking his place. The other cat hissed. Conroy turned and performed a full-fledged growl, sending the cat into the opposing corner of the room. The cats surrounding him cheered as the biggest one slid the bottle, full to the brim, across the table. Rubbing his paws together, Conroy picked up the gigantic bottle. It was about the length of one of his legs. Taking four deep breaths in perfect succession, Conroy lifted the bottle on the final breath and began to chug. The cool, fizzy soft drink slid down his throat, popping and melting in his mouth. Conroy was enjoying it so much, that he held the bottle even higher, forcing more down his throat. As he finished the bottle, he let out a satisfied gasp and a massive burp before setting the bottle down.

All the cats stared. One dropped his jaw so far it hit the table. Suddenly, they began to cheer crazily. Another larger cat jumped onto the table and began to speak. "No one has ever been able to drink that much from my bottle except for me!" said the cat in an Irish bur, smiling. Across one of his deep red eyes was a gash, reaching from the top of his left eye down to the tip of his chest. His fur was yellow in color. Orange stripes lined his entire body.

Conroy chucked and began to say, "Thanks," but as he opened his mouth, the larger cat grabbed his lips with his huge paws. The larger cat squinted furiously as Conroy tried to break free. The whole table was silent. "Are you trying to upstage me or something… cat?" shouted the large feline, throwing Conroy off the table. One of the other cats caught him under the shoulders, lowering him to safety. Conroy mouthed, "Thanks," before returning his gaze to the monstrous cat. Conroy stood tall and firm.

"No." he said, still gazing straight into the other cat's eyes.

"Well, you best watch it, kitten," said the cat, "Because Toby the Cat here will jack you up!" He pointed to himself with his paw. Toby smiled as Conroy's fur began to rise.

"No one… calls me… KITTEN!" Conroy leaped, grabbing a bottle from the table. Toby had no time to move, for Conroy was to fast. Conroy slammed the bottle into Toby's skull, sending him hurtling off the table. One of the other cats stood up, infuriated.

"That was uncalled for!" he shouted, trying to help Toby to his feat. Conroy countered back..

"Are you kidding? And you think him grabbing me and throwing me off the table wasn't bad enough!" Conroy retorted, balling his paw into a fist. He stalked away before anyone could stop him. As he sat down at a different table, he thought about what he had just done. _He could be bleeding… he could even be dying for all I know. I'm so stupid! _Conroy never thought he would sink so low as to hurt someone for a rude remark. This was defiantly gonna change who he thought he was. He thought it was best if he just left the party. Just as he reached the pole leading to his room, the unnaturally loud beat of a drum began to play. Conroy wondered if the jukebox had been turned up, but then he noticed it had been unplugged. Looking toward the back of the room, he saw three cats lined up against the wall, one beating down on the drums, one holding a base guitar, and one holding an electric guitar. The electric guitar player started his tune, the base guitarist keeping with him in a steady rhythm.

People began to cheer. As Conroy looked toward the center table, a spotlight lit it from above. His jaw dropped. There, standing on the table, was the most beautiful young she-cat he had ever seen. Her fur was a blazing orange, two red stripes lining her cheeks. Her eyes were bright emeralds gleaming in the light. Her long tail whipped back and forth as she danced slowly in tune with the rock music. Then, she began to sing:

_**What's the time? Well, it's gotta be close to midnight!**_

_**My body's talkin' to me, it says, "Time for danger!**_

"_**It says I wanna commit a crime. Wanna be the cause of a fight!**_

"_**I wanna shed a little tight fur, and purr, with a stranger!"**_

_**I've had a knack from way back at breakin' the rules once I learned the games!**_

_**Get up! Life's too quick, I know some place sick! Where this chick'll dance in the flames!**_

_**We don't need any money! I always get in for free!**_

_**You can get in, too, if you get in with me! **_

_**Let's go, out tonight!**_

_**I have to go, out tonight!**_

_**You wanna play let's run away, we won't be back before its New Years Day!**_

_**Take me out tonight! Meow… HA!**_

Everyone started jumping and dancing, roaring cheerfully as she continued her awesome song. Conroy couldn't help but get closer to the table.

_**When I get a wink from the doorman, do you know how lucky you'll be?**_

_**That you're on the line with the feline from Avenue B!**_

_**Let's go, out tonight!**_

_**I have to go, out tonight!**_

_**You wanna prowl, be my night owl, well take my hand, we're gonna howl!**_

_**Oooooooh, out tonight!**_

As the girl edged closer to the edge of the table, she slipped on a small puddle of root beer. As she began to fall forward, Conroy dove and caught her by the arm, hoisting her up onto the table. Although slightly shocked, the girl smiled warmly and winked. Conroy blushed as a group of cats surrounding him said, "Oooooohh!"

_**In the evening, I've got to roam. Can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome.**_

_**Feels to damn much like home, when the little kitties, cry.**_

_**So let's find a bar, so dark we forget who we are!**_

_**Where all the scars from the never's and maybe's, DIE!**_

_**Let's go! Out, tonight! Uhuh!**_

_**I have to go, nuh nuh nuh nowoooout tonight!**_

As she sung the last few lyrics, she hunkered down next to Conroy, pushing on his nose with her paw.

_**You're sweet, wanna, hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?**_

_**Just take me, out tonight!**_

_**Please take me? Out tonight!**_

_**Don't forsake me! Out tonight!**_

_**I'll let ya make me, out tonight! Tonight! Tonight! Tonight…**_

As the girl finished her song, she gave Conroy one last wink before sliding off the table. Conroy's ears laid back, an expression of content lining his face. As Doug approached, he said, "Wow! I never knew a girl could sing like that! That was cool, huh Conroy?" As he looked over, he saw Conroy gazing after her, drooling slightly at the mouth. "Conroy?" said Doug again, waving a paw in his face. "Conroy? Con? Yoo-hoo! Come back down to Earth!" Conroy still did not answer. Resorting to drastic measures, Doug whipped Conroy across the face with a single paw. Conroy rubbed the side of his head.

"Thanks…" Conroy turned his attention back to Doug. "So, what did you think of her?" Doug rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Either Conroy was having trouble keeping his brain in focus, or he had just experienced puberty. As Conroy looked about, he saw people beginning to leave. The party had ended, so he guessed that the girl who sang was the big finale. But, looking around once more, he noticed one person was missing: Chip. "Hey, Doug?" inquired Conroy, still searching the room. "Where's Chip?" Doug had also noticed that Chip was gone.

"Damnit, I told him not to wander off! Chip?" Doug shouted, climbing the pole to get upstairs. Conroy followed, calling Chip's name as he went. As they reached Conroy's room, they looked inside to find nothing.

"Maybe he accidentally left," said Conroy, scratching the patch around his eye. Then, he looked toward the skylight. He had remembered closing it on his way out, but now it was wide open. A chilling breeze pierced the room, sending tingles up the cat's spines. Conroy spoke. "Wait here, I'm gonna go see if he's up there."

"Up where?" asked Doug. Conroy slapped his face with his paw. How could Doug not know that his friend's skylight reached to the roof. Conroy had to spill it.

"To the roof, you moron!" said Conroy, watching for a reaction. All Doug had to say was, "Oh…" as Conroy began to climb through the hatch. It took him about a minute to reach the roof where the air was much, much colder. Conroy looked around, shivering. He finally spotted Chip seated silently at the edge of the building, looking down at the street. Conroy came over to sit down beside him as Doug poked his head through the opening. As Conroy bent down to look at Chip's face, he saw that his eyes were slightly red and glazed. "What's the matter, bud?" said Conroy, giving Chip a slightly concerned look. "Someone give you a hard time at the party?" Chip nodded his head lightly.

Conroy was taken aback for a moment. Who would want to mess up Chip's good time. "Who was it?" asked Conroy. Chip looked up, wiping his eyes with his arm. As he began to speak, however, the three cats heard a cry from the street below. Doug rushed to the edge of the building, looking out over the streets.

Suddenly, Doug shouted, "There!" Conroy's eyes widened as he saw a girl cat sprinting down the street. It was the same one that had sung at the end of the party. As she ducked down in a small alleyway, she spotted Conroy, Chip and Doug looking at her. She yelled to them.

"Someone, help me! I'm being chased by a-" before she could finish her sentence, a huge dog bounded around the corner she came from, sending the girl cat screaming as she ran further into the alleyway. The dog followed her. Conroy winced as he heard more muffled cries.

"I'll be back! Stay here!" shouted Conroy, jumping down to catch a lamppost hanging over the pavement. As he grabbed the bar, his paw slipped, sending him hurtling down. He hit the pavement with full force. He cried out as he heard a snap in his wrist. As he stood up slowly, he heard Doug say faintly above, "I thought cats always land on their feet, but in Conroy's case…" Conroy interrupted by throwing a small pebble up at him. Holding his left wrist in his right, he dashed across the street, just barely avoiding a speeding motorbike.

As Conroy came into the alleyway, he heard a crazy bark that cracked like thunder. He also heard the girl cat squeal. Taking a deep breath, Conroy leaped out from behind the wall of the alleyway. He shouted, "Leave her alone, you dirt bag!" The dog's ears perked as he heard this voice. As he turned, he bared his gleaming teeth. His deep, dark, lifeless eyes swiveled to meet his. Conroy gasped. His mind flashed back to when he was a lonely kitten, lying on the street, as a huge black dog got ready to eat him alive. As his mind flashed back to the present, he began to step backward, watching as the girl cat cowered in fear. "Y-you… You're t-that dog that," Conroy stuttered, watching as the black dog came ever closer. A huge "X" shaped scar lined his nose, deep red in color. The dog opened his mouth to speak.

"My it's been a while, hasn't it?" The dog laughed, lolling his tongue out the side of his mouth. "I remember it like it was yesterday. You were just lying there, all ready to chew on. But then, that damned godfather of yours came and ruined my meal. But now, since you're here, I'm going to get my revenge by hurting him inside. It's time for my dinner… kitten!" Conroy's expression immediately turned from afraid and cowardly to ferociously infuriated. An overwhelming feeling overtook Conroy's body as sweat dripped from his brow. His vision became blood red, and the dog was his target. Talon-like claws jetted from the tips of his paws and back legs. His hair stood on end. Conroy had become an unstoppable monster. As he sprinted forward on all fours, his lashed out with his right paw, then his left. The dog attempted to escape, but only escaped with two bleeding gashes near his ribs.

The dog howled in pain. Conroy saw and opening near the dogs throat and took it. Just as he leaped to finish the dog off, however, the dog lashed out with his huge jaws. Conroy fell to the ground, bloody teeth marks lining the inside area of his right ear. He panted relentlessly as his vision returned to normal. His claws retracted, leaving slightly bloody holes in his paws. "Huh, weakling," said the dog, placing his huge paw on Conroy's head. "You see, she-cat," growled the dog, still looking down at Conroy, "He's no savior. He's just another little snack for all the big boys!" As the dog turned his head to look at the girl, however, a brick clunked him in the noggin. The she-cat had taken a brick from the ground while the dog had his back turned.

The giant mongrel fell to the ground. Conroy felt the pressure on his skull relieve as the dog's paw slipped away. The girl cat rushed to Conroy's side, helping him to his feat. "Thanks," said Conroy, shivering slightly as he felt the teeth marks in his ear. The girl cat smiled and spoke.

"It was no trouble… although that stupid dog was hard to get away from," the girl looked away with a grin, giving the dog a small kick in the head. He growled unconsciously. The girl, bewildered, took refuge behind Conroy's back. He chuckled and turned around to face her. "What's your name, hero?" the girl cat asked in sarcastic tone.

"Conroy… and you?" he replied, blushing. The girl cat giggled, opening her mouth to speak.

"My name's Lillian, but you can obviously call me Lilly." Lilly moved closer, inspecting Conroy's ear with concern in her eyes. "I think I can fix that bite mark scar with a bandage or two… or four." Taking Conroy by the hand, she led him back out of the alleyway. As Conroy looked to the roof of the "Tavern Roots Bar", he could not see Doug or Chip anywhere. He figured they had either gone to get help or had gone downstairs to clean up the mess the party left behind. Just then, Conroy remember that Tom would be home at any minute.

"Excuse me, Lilly!" said Conroy. Lilly turned to see what he had to say. "I can take care of my ear… you should go home. It would be best." Lilly gave Conroy a sad gaze before letting his hand slip from hers. Then, she smiled.

"I'll come and visit sometime, ok?" she said, her emerald eyes gleaming in the light of the full moon. Conroy nodded, smiling with her. Lilly trotted off, skipping happily around the corner as she made her way home. Conroy sighed with content. Another day, another new friend. As Conroy made his way back down to the cellar. He noticed that Doug and Chip had completed their clean up. Chip gasped as he saw the scars embedded in Conroy's ear.

"Dude!" he shouted, "Your ear is all bloody! I'm gonna go find some bandages!" Chip rushed off to a different part of the cellar, searching for the bandages. Doug walked over and began to question Conroy as if he were some kind of criminal.

"What happened? Did that girl make it out ok? Why did you risk your neck like that!" Conroy rolled his eyes as the questions continued. As Chip came back, he carried a long rope of bandages to wrap around Conroy's ear. Chip forced Conroy into a seat before performing his so called "operation". As he laced Conroy's ear, he accidentally caught the edge of one of the scars. Conroy yelped loudly, creating an echo that shot off the walls. Doug calmed him down. As Chip finally finished, he inspected his work. The bandage fit perfectly, for it did not pinch his ear or slip down. At that very moment, Tom walked into the cellar, carrying a bag over his shoulder.

"What happened to you, Conroy?" he queried, setting the bag down on a nearby table. Conroy began to explain in a suspicious stutter, but Doug and Chip quickly stopped him, telling Tom that he had simply cut his ear by accident. Conroy nodded, trying to look as innocent as possible. Tom raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but decided it wasn't a big deal. As he divided the food among the three young cats to put away, he spotted something shiny underneath the table. As he picked it up, he eyed a small symbol on the tiny piece of glass he held in his paw. It was a cent sign, like the ones on the bottles of root beer they owned. Not only did it have a cent sign, but it was also covered with what looked like blood. Tom looked at it for a split second before tossing it away into a small trash bin. He had no idea where the shard of bloody glass had come from, but he knew it had something to do with Conroy's ear… or did it?


	4. Darkness Uncovered

**Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter are (C) of me. Catscratch is owned by Doug TenNapel.**

**Author's Note: Finally! I worked on this very late, and it is done! Here you go, enjoy!**

It had been four agonizing weeks since Conroy had met the lovely she-cat Lilly. Not only had Conroy been suffering because of the injury dealt to his ear, but also since Lilly had not spoken to him over that time. Every night, Conroy would sit by the crawlspace to their cellar, waiting intently for the moment of glory to come through his door in the form of paper and pencil. Tom was beginning to worry about him, wondering if he had become ill or depressed. But, as much as he tried to unnecessarily cheer him up, Doug and Chip would always be in the way. Tom was slightly mystified by his youngling's behavior, but waved it off each time.

Finally, as Sunday night rolled about, a small slip of lined paper drifted lazily into Conroy's lap, alerting him. Before reading the note, he poked his head around the corner of the crawlspace, only to see a shadow trotting along the ground down the alleyway. Taking a deep breath, Conroy unfolded the sheet and read the note:

"Hey, you! I want you to meet me someplace… how about the park, at 7:00 tonight? Okay? See you real soon! –Lilly"

Holding the paper to his chest, Conroy looked up, finally realizing the impact of those simple words. As Doug passed by, root beer bottle in hand, he glanced over to see Conroy staring at the ceiling, a dazed, loving expression on his face. Raising an eyebrow, Doug slowly edged around a corner to his room, taking one last concerned look at his friend before disappearing. Conroy instantly leapt to his feet, following Doug around the corner. "Hey, Doug, could you-" yapped Conroy, slightly bouncing up and down on his feet, stopping halfway through his sentence to listen to Doug speak as he held up a paw.

"Oooh, no, no, no! Whatever it is you want me to help you with, you don't have a chance, lover boy!" Doug turned his root beer bottle upside down, slurping the liquid from its container.

"But, Doug!" Conroy whined, slowly circling Doug like a vulture that had spotted its prey, "I need you to cover for me while I go out to see Lilly!" Doug threw the half-empty bottle to the floor as the impact of this sentence hit him. He spurted root beer from his mouth, drenching Conroy's face with sticky soda. Taking a single paw, a weary expression lining his face, Conroy slapped himself between the eyes, stroking downward as he wiped the root beer from his face. Suddenly, his expression vanished, and he became bouncy yet again, begging, "Please, please, please!" Doug, rolling his eyes, told him that he would only cover him this one time. He watched as Conroy left the cellar, quietly celebrating.

"That Conroy is one royal pain in the ass… as usual," mumbled Doug, taking a rag from a nearby table and cleansing his lips. Meanwhile, out on the streets, Conroy trotted along to Lilly's house, humming to himself. He looked up at the sky, grateful that there had been a power outage in the area; the deep sky was littered with stars. He knew that tonight would be perfect.

As Conroy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he crossed at the crosswalk from Turner Street to Greenhouse Lane. He silently watched as the street sign swayed in the breeze, old and rusty. Conroy didn't know why, but the sign seemed… familiar. In fact, the area he was in seemed familiar. It was as if he had been here before, but when, he wasn't sure. Taking one last look at the tiny map Lilly had sketched on the back of the note, he became sure he was going in the right direction. Conroy began to walk forward on the cold, dusty ground, but as he did, his eyes averted to a small alleyway, as if by instinct. A squared object lay at the back of the alley, slowly shifting as the winds created a current inside it. Conroy turned from his destination, curious as to what led him here, and why.

Everything about him felt comforting… the tight walls, the rocky floor, and the full moon that rose overhead. For some reason, it seemed brighter, so bright in fact, that Conroy turned his eyes away. Stumbling backward, he felt something sharp cut his foot. Lifting his paw in pain, he hissed slightly, looking to see what he had stepped on. To his surprise, it was a small piece of gravel. He wondered how a rock so small could cause so much harm, for when he lifted his foot, an X-shaped cut had been embedded there. Walking off the pain, Conroy cautiously approached the object. There, laying there in the dark, was a large cardboard box. Its paper-like material had yellowed with age, and bits of the lids had been ripped and torn apart. Conroy caught a small piece of something caught beneath the box. Slowly pulling it out, it formed into a sheet of lined, yellow paper. A note in scribbled handwriting had been penned onto the paper, the ink smudged. Conroy could barely make out what the note said:

"If anyone should find our child, please take care of him. We only wish him the best…" Conroy was bewildered at what he had read. Who in their right mind would leave a child in a cardboard box in a darkened alleyway? There was only one explanation for this: it might not have been a human. Looking inside the box, he spied a lone newspaper, dampened with rain and torn severely. In the center of the newspaper was a small lump. Conroy felt it was up to him to see if this baby was ok. He lifted the newspaper up. There was nothing there. Suddenly, Conroy saw a flash before his eyes. It blinded him, but he did not drop the paper. More flashes erupted in his mind, revealing shadows that moved about the area. Then, as he stumbled back to the box, he saw something that frightened him: a baby kitten that looked just like him, bleeding and drenched with rain. Conroy cried out, falling backwards, begging and pleading in his mind for the blinding images to stop… and they did.

Conroy rolled over onto his hands and knees, panting uncontrollably, tears streaming from his eyes. "What… the… hell!" whispered Conroy, trying to wipe his eyes as he held up the newspaper. For some reason, he felt like searching for the date, just so he could prove that what he saw wasn't true. As he spotted the date, however, he felt sick to his stomach. The date was July 15, 2004. He knew that this year was 2006. And what was more, he knew he was two years old. The note that had been left, the newspaper, the box, and the sudden visions: they were all some type of clues, passageways to the past. All this time, Conroy had thought he had only been brought into this life with none other than love and care. Now he knew he had been so wrong, and so naive for two years. He had been abandoned. Slowly turning the newspaper to its backside, he saw that it had been smeared with blood. Conroy looked up to the sky as rain began to pour down. Conroy fell to his knees. He wailed.

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Lilly had become worried about Conroy. He knew that he had gotten her note, because as she was coming home, she saw him blindly following her. Thinking it was best to go and look for him, she quietly slipped past her owners and out the backdoor through a cat-door. Hopping the fence to the front yard, she turned her head to look about. She grinned happily as she saw Conroy coming toward her. But, there was something different about him; his walk was nothing like she had seen before. She had never seen him hang his head so low, and the way he just dragged his tail… he never dragged his tail. He would always perk it up, being careful to get it dirty. Something was wrong. "Conroy, are you ok, pal?" inquired Lilly, tugging on Conroy's arm as he approached.

"My life's... just a blur, Lil," mumbled Conroy, stopping in his tracks. Lilly looked up at him, astonished. Conroy didn't look back.

"Con?" asked Lilly again, tugging harder on his arm. "C'mon, you can come inside. You're soaked." Lilly knew that she was, too, watching as the pounding rain ricocheted off her house's awning. Pulling Conroy along, the two snuck back inside, drying themselves off as they sat inside the bathroom. "What did you mean by… no purpose?" asked Lilly, pulling the towel over her head. Conroy said nothing, looking into a mirror as he sat atop the sink. "Con, you gotta talk to me, pal. You can tell me anything. Y'know?" Conroy finally looked back, a faraway looked scribbled in his eyes.

"Sure… ok," said Conroy, jumping from the sink to the tile below. "Well, you see… I…" but just as he was about to explain his horrifying visions, the handle on the bathroom door began to jiggle. A voice echoed off the walls.

"Lilly? Are you in there, sweetie? Mommy needs to take a shower!" Lilly bit her paw, looking about. She suddenly began unraveling the roll of toilet paper attached to the wall, biting her lower lip as she eyed the door.

"What are you-" Conroy began, but Lilly quickly shushed him, telling him she was creating a distraction while he escaped.

"Ummm… uh… just a minute, ma!" yelled Lilly, nodding her head to a small window above the bathroom. "We'll talk about it… later!" she whispered, urging Conroy upward as he leaped to get away. As he turned about, he flashed a small grin: the only happiness she saw out of him since she found him. "Hang on, ma! I'm just… uh… cleaning up this toilet paper!" These were the last words Conroy heard of Lilly before he leapt down from the windowsill.

"I feel so sorry for her," Conroy silently joked, taking off before he was spotted. After a few hours, Conroy finally returned home behind Tom's back, sneaking up to his room before anyone besides Doug would notice. Conroy vowed to himself that the alleyway he had discovered was never to be entered again: not by him, his family, or his friends. There was too much history there, but Conroy knew it was a vital part in his past. Now, he had a new task for himself: put the pieces of the puzzle together, and figure out who he was, once and for all. Drifting off into a deep slumber, he began to wonder, "… Who am I?"


	5. Presents and Secrets

In the pitch darkness of the cellar, Conroy tossed and turned on his small mattress, clawing at the air and silently snarling. Dust particles drifted in the moonlight; Conroy's skylight had been left open. A draft wafted into the room, bringing the dampness of midnight in. Conroy was falling… _falling… falling…_

_Conroy, feeling the rush of his fall stop opened his eyes, revealing a vast ocean of white light. Although his fall had stopped, Conroy still felt as if he were floating in midair. At that moment, all was silent, and Conroy held completely still. A voice abruptly ended the moment, making Conroy jump. "So," the voice said, "You're name is Conroy? I would have imagined something… different." The voice was high-pitched, yet mature. It was obviously female, and although Conroy had never heard it before, it seemed… familiar._

"_My name… different?" asked Conroy, attempting to turn his head and find the source of the female's voice. "Why would it be different? This has always been my name," A thought popped into his mind without warning: What if his name was supposed to be different? "… Hasn't it?"_

"_Not always… but yes," said the voice again, this time at a closer point: right behind Conroy. He felt the presence of whoever was there, yet he couldn't see her still. His head felt as if it were locked in place. "I can understand why you don't know who you are… the box, the alley… but you should know something by now!" The tone had changed from calm to slightly excited. "Don't you know who I am?"_

_A hand lay to rest on Conroy's shoulder, its grip gentle and caring. Conroy had become slightly confused. "No… who are you?" As Conroy finally got over his stillness, he turned to look whoever was talking straight in the eye… but an eye was all he saw. It was the same color as his, yet somehow… different…_

The image of the eye suddenly parted into three separate pieces, and the room became dark and chilly; much different from where he was before. Feeling himself in a lying position, Conroy reached down with his paw to find he was on his mattress, taking his gaze away from the eye he saw. Turning back, he saw the eye again, but backing away from the spot, he saw it was only his mirror; it had fallen from the wall above his bed, cracking into three. "Ah, crap," he whispered, lifting the mirror by the support string to set it on his dresser. As he turned, however, he became dazzled at what was on his glass root beer bottle that was sitting there. It had become shinier than ever, covered with what looked like dew or rain. Setting his broken mirror down, he looked about his room to find that whatever had come to rest on his root beer bottle found its way onto all of his other furniture. The scene was slightly eerie, yet calming. A chill dashed up Conroy's back, forcing him to wrap his arms around himself.

Glancing up at his skylight, he saw it had been left open from the night before, a swift gust of icy breeze blowing through it. Groaning, Conroy sat up, hopped from his bed, and stumbled over to the skylight. Suddenly, however, something hard and frozen cracked beneath his foot, causing him to almost literally leap three feet into the air. Holding his foot and rubbing it affectionately with his paw to warm it, he took a double-take on what he had stepped on and realized it was snow. He grinned. Winter had crept into his bedroom, and he was pleased. Still balancing on one foot, he bounced over to the foot of his bed, letting his foot down and slipping it into one of his dark red rain boots, which was meant for a human toddler. Pushing his other foot into the second boot, Conroy called out to see if anyone was home. No reply was made, so he figured everyone was outside. Grabbing a small scarf (also meant for a small child about his size) Conroy rushed from his home in the cellar of "The Tavern Roots Bar" and into the icy air.

It was no surprise to see tons of children and adults playing and walking about in the street outside when Conroy emerged from the small crawlspace in the wall beside the bar. Making his way through the snow, the icy substance crunching beneath his little boots, he walked out into the street, and gazed upward at the dull gray morning sky. Out of no where, a frozen slush ball whizzed past Conroy's head, landing back into the snow. He barely had time to react before a second one whooshed past him, and then another, the third one crashing into his back. His hair stood on end from the freezing cold, and turning to face his snowy attackers, wiped the snow from his fur as best he could. There, with show-off grins were Doug and Chip, both of them balancing snowballs in their paws.

"Hey, Conroy!" shouted Doug, still holding on to his snowball, "You like snow? Have some more!" Doug chucked it as hard as he could, watching as his icy cannonball sped toward his target. Suddenly, Conroy leaped into the air with ease, Doug's snowball splattering back onto the pavement. Conroy, still in the air, quickly flashed a snowball behind his back, and, without warning, flung it. It hit Doug square in the face, the force of such a throw knocking him off balance, giving Conroy just enough time to land and throw him into the snow with a swift, but playful push. Doug looked up from where he lay and said with shock:

"How the hell did you do that? That snowball came outta no where!" Conroy reached down with his paw and helped Doug to his feat, leaving him to brush himself off.

"Where was the only place to get snow out from no where than the place where it landed on my back?" Conroy grinned, turning to give Chip an evil glare before turning away. "I'm off to go see if Lilly's around here anywhere." As Conroy slowly made his way down the street, Chip glanced at Doug, and tried to snicker. Doug's swift reaction was giving Chip a face-full of snow with his own snowball, which he had failed to drop when he was glared at. Meanwhile, Conroy was trotting about, searching for the lovely she-cat he had met only a few weeks before. Something brushed Conroy's shoulder, and he was quick to turn and find Lilly gazing straight at him. She gave off a small giggle when Conroy's face became red, even if it was covered with fur.

"Did you get in trouble with your owners?" asked Conroy, curious to know what had befallen Lilly and her distraction so that he could escape.

"Of course not!" said Lilly, throwing her paws behind her back, "I sort of… escaped too…"

"How?"

"I hid in the cupboard under the sink,"

Conroy scratched himself behind his ear with his paw, snickering. "Some escape you made!" Lilly began to laugh as well, but the laugh quickly faded from embarrassment as people gave them bewildered looks. Conroy all of a sudden noticed that Lilly had been dragging a small red wagon behind her, and he couldn't help but ask why.

"Oh, ummm, about the wagon… I don't really have an explanation for it… yeah, let's go with that," she muttered the last words in her sentence so that Conroy couldn't hear was she was saying.

"Is it for riding in?" queried Conroy, poking at the big red bow that was also attached to the wagon.

"NO!" shouted Lilly, dragging the wagon away from him. Conroy only stood there, his paw still locked in a fist except for his index finger, which he was using to prod at the bow. His eyes dilated.

"It isn't for riding in…" murmured Conroy, reflecting on what Lilly had said. "But ALL wagons are for riding in! Are you crazy!"

"No," said an annoyed Lilly, attempting to hide the small wagon behind her back. "It's an early Christmas present for a friend."

"Who is it?" asked Conroy.

"None of your business!" answered Lilly, turning away with her gift for whoever-it-is-for, shrugging her shoulders and groaning. Conroy only stood there, amazed.

"I never knew a girl could get so angry about riding in a wagon." Conroy processed this new 'discovery' in his mind before moving on. His mind turned back to what had happened the night before, and changing his direction, made his way past Bakersfield Park, approaching the corner of Greenhouse and Turner. His thoughts turned serious, and as he slowly came to the alleyway, he paused. What if the violent flashes that had erupted before his eyes and mind suddenly returned, and what if this time it severely injured him? He was no sure about what was going to happen, but he was willing to take a risk. Taking his scarf, he slowly raised it to his eyes and tied it there, blocking his vision. His other senses overtook what had been left out, and soon, he could see the alleyway once again. But, instead of using his eyes, he used his paws, his ears, and his sense of smell to see what lay before him. Using the claws on his feet, he knew he would be able to see what was on the ground around him, and combining it with his ears, he could actually sense where everything was through vibrations.

Taking a small step forward, he felt as if he was being watched, and it slightly annoyed him. Removing his 'blindfold' and wrapping it back around his neck, Conroy turned about to see Lilly, a serious look painted across her delicate face. She was no longer trailing a wagon behind her. "What exactly are you doing? You know, it isn't really seen as normal when someone sees a cat walking about an alleyway with a scarf around his eyes."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm trying to do something…" Conroy lifted his scarf back to his face and began to walk farther into the alleyway. Lilly interrupted his progress by speaking loudly.

"If you really wanna know who I was giving the wagon to, it was," But Conroy cut her off before she could continue.

"You're talking way too loudly, so the only thing I can see now is you, and I have no idea where I am, so shush." Conroy continued his blind trek. Lilly quietly crossed her arms and watched his progress, as he amazingly got to the back of the alleyway, reached down to pick up a bloody newspaper and a small piece of paper, and came back.

"Why did you cover your eyes, though," said Lilly, "If all you wanted to do was get a newspaper, which looks really gross with all that blood on it, and a piece of paper." Conroy, removing his scarf from his eyes, walked with Lilly, telling her about the night before and his visions in the alley. Lilly, understanding most of what Conroy said, asked very few questions, and only interrupted him once so he could repeat something she didn't catch. "So, you covered your eyes because when you're in there, your mind sort of… goes backwards?"

"Yes…" replied Conroy, looking down at the snow covered ground as they walked along, the deep slush cracking beneath their footsteps.

"Why?"

"I have no idea. It just… comes to me, and it's just more than I can handle. It makes me want to die…" Lilly grasped Conroy's arm and looked at him, a frightful gaze lining her face. "I mean hypothetically." Lilly was immediately relieved. After a long walk to Conroy's home street, where the children had ceased their play and had gone inside hours ago, the mood lightened, and Conroy remembered Lilly's earlier attempt to tell him who the wagon was for.

"What did you say about the wagon? Oh, yeah! Who's it for, again?" Lilly hesitated for a brief moment, but then, her answer was crisp and clear.

"I gave it to Toby." Conroy's jaw dropped, as Lilly had expected, and she also covered her ears, for she knew that Conroy was about to begin ranting. And he did.

"Why the HELL did you give a little red wagon to some asshole feline who nearly choked me to death over winning a stupid chugging game! I mean, if someone beat me at something I was good at, I wouldn't go, 'Oh you won! NOW DIE!' What's he gonna use it for? His widdle-iddy-biddy stuffed mice! Or his gigantic bottle! Or…"

"Conroy, SHUT UP!" Lilly burst out, stamping her foot into the deep snow. Conroy threw his arms into the air, placing them in front of his face and turning away, fearing the wrath of the female feline race, and fearing that millions would flock to him and claw his eyes out at the same time. But, the female apocalypse did not happen, and Conroy was safe. Looking back at Lilly, he widened his mouth into a sloppy grin, saying:

"I mean, uh, how nice of you to, uh, give, uh, ummm…" Conroy stammered, feeling utterly stupid and embarrassed over his sudden outrage. Lilly could do nothing but glare, making sure Conroy couldn't finish what he was saying. Conroy finally gave up, and taking him by the ear, Lilly dragged him to go and see Toby, Conroy crying and begging for mercy along the way.

----

Reaching the far side of town, Lilly and Conroy huddled closer together, for the dampness of the evening sent chills down their backs. Their boots, which were sopping wet, would no longer sink into the snow, for the freezing white stuff all over the ground had frozen into a sort of glacier that covered the entirety of Bakersfield. The houses and factories of Bakersfield had disappeared behind them, leaving only the slums left to venture through. Unfortunately, the slums are where Toby lived. When the two cats had finally reached Toby's alleyway, which Conroy was absolutely sure Toby couldn't get through (because the width of the alley was just about Conroy's size only) Lilly gave him a quick word. "Ok, we're going in, and you have to make a truce with him… even if you think he's a jerk." Conroy moaned. "Oh, and if he accepts your truce, you don't have to come back… ever… again." Lilly tried to make herself sound convincing.

"I'm just gonna do it quick and get it over with," said Conroy, puffing up his chest and walking triumphantly through the alley to Toby's home. Lilly slapped her paw to her forehead. This was going to be a long evening. Reaching the opposite end of the alley, Lilly and Conroy stood there, looking about at Toby's home. The atmosphere was dark and cold. Conroy felt as if he were in a dungeon. Trash piled on either side of the alley, creating foul smelling mountains. The trash bins were being used as furniture, the cans put in places where they mimicked a human living room, just as Conroy's 'family' had done in the cellar. Out of no where, a voice crept along the walls, echoing until it reached beyond the alley's open ceiling.

"Who enters my abode?" said the voice, which was obviously Toby's. The strange thing was, Conroy could not see where this monstrous cat could be hiding, even though he was about as tall as a Great Dane. Lilly responded:

"It's only me, Toby. I brought a friend, too!" Lilly spoke perfectly, keeping her voice calm and collected, never missing a single syllable. Suddenly, a giant shadow leaped from behind one of the heaping piles of filth and came to rest in front of them. Conroy yelped, taking refuge behind Lilly. Looking over Lilly's shoulder, Conroy could make out the familiar features of his nemesis. His yellow fur, his orange stripes, his gleaming red eyes, and his hideous scar were all there, and he seemed bigger than ever before.

"Well hello, Lilly! Good to see you, girl! Thanks for the wagon, I needed it to get all this filth outta my house!" Toby actually seemed friendly enough to walk up to and chat with, so, Conroy walked out from behind Lilly's back and held his paw out. Toby, seeing Conroy and remembering him beating him at his chugging game, frowned deeply, and instead of shaking Conroy's paw, grasped his wrist and twisting it into an odd angle. Conroy let out a painful cry, and Lilly gasped at Toby's reaction to Conroy's presence.

"TOBY! Let him go, now!" Lilly sprang onto Toby's arm, trying to release her friend from the large cat's grasp. Toby snickered and let Conroy's arm go, leaving him to hold his twisted arm in pain. "How dare you, Toby the Cat!" Toby suddenly looked ashamed at his action.

"Sorry, baby, but this cat's trouble!" said Toby. Conroy let out a gasp of shock.

"Did he just call you… BABY!" Conroy, finally getting his arm to straighten properly, gave Lilly a puzzled look. Lilly confessed:

"Yes, he did. He's my boyfriend." Conroy's perception of reality instantly shattered at this statement. How could anyone possibly like something as hideous and violent as Toby the Cat? Conroy just couldn't get it. Toby took a step closer to Conroy.

"Hey, you. What did you come here for anyway?" Toby bent down to look Conroy straight in the eye. Conroy kept his face straight, although the pain in his arm was still throbbing.

"I came to form a truce with you," said Conroy. Toby was taken aback by Conroy's statement, but then began to laugh. Lilly elbowed him in the hip (because she's only about half as tall as Toby is) and got him to stop and answer.

When Lilly asked him what his answer was, Toby replied: "What's my answer? What's my answer! Here's my answer for knocking' me over the head with a glass bottle!" Toby flung a wild punch at Conroy, who ducked down just in time to avoid it. Toby's knuckles slammed against the wall of the alley, and his claws suddenly popped from his paws. "I'm gonna make you suffer, kitten!" Conroy's panic suddenly became fury at these words. As he snarled and hissed at Toby, Lilly came between them and threw out her arms. Conroy immediately stopped is snarling, and Toby retracted his gnarled claws.

"Toby, you little monster!" cried Lilly, jabbing a finger into Toby's stomach.

"Who you callin' little?" said Toby, slightly offended by the political incorrect statement. "Besides, you should've seen what this kid did to me at the party!"

"I DID see it, and you deserved it!" Lilly grabbed Conroy's paw in her own, and she turned to face Toby for the last time. "Toby, we're through!" And that was the last time she ever saw Toby the Cat, for as soon as she shouted these words, she turned away, Conroy following close behind, and didn't look back. If she had looked back, however, she might have seen Toby's despair as he fell on all fours, and whispered, "I'm sorry… so sorry…"

Toby the Cat was alone.

---

The only person that had looked back to see Toby's reaction was Conroy, but as he attempted to explain what he had seen, Lilly only ignored him, said, "Goodnight," and stalked away to her house. As Conroy stumbled along back to the bar were he knew Doug and Chip were waiting, he pulled the bloody sheet of newspaper and the note he found in the alleyway at Greenhouse and Turner from his boot and stared at them. "When I get home," he whispered to himself, "It's time to get down to business."


	6. Light and Dark? Wait a Minute

**Author's Note: I took me a while to figure out what to do with the plot for this chapter. The yellow and chocolate labs are based on my real dogs, so I hope their personalities are correct. Enjoy this chapter!

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**

When Conroy finally reached the crawlway to his home, he was quick to hide his bloody newspaper and note away in his boot. As he crawled inside to the warmth of his home, he was instantly rattled with questions from Doug and Chip, who were waiting by the entrance. "Why were you gone so long?" "Where the hell did you go?" "Did you make out with Lilly or something?"

Conroy stepped backwards in bewilderment at the final question, thinking, _**why would I make out with Lilly at a time like this?!** _Instead of answering his friends with his thoughts, his only answer was, "None of your business, nowhere, and no. Good night!" With that final barrage of answers, Conroy rushed to room and closed the curtains, shielding himself from the view of his curious comrades. Kicking off his boots in complete exhaustion, Conroy prepared himself for an investigation he knew he may never finish or solve. He removed his scarf, threw it onto his bed, and flopped down on top of it. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about his dream that had occurred only a few hours ago. Who was the source of the voice? Lilly? No, it couldn't have been, her voice was too high to be the one he heard so clearly. The female's words were still ringing in his head…

An idea struck him like lightning striking a skyscraper. Maybe, the voice was someone he knew in his past, when he was born. Sitting up, Conroy slowly closed his eyes and began to think. He thought, and thought, and thought, desperately attempting to remember who the girl in his dream was. Unfortunately, his droopiness got the better of him, and during his thoughts, Conroy fell backwards onto his bed, sound asleep. Nevertheless, he was still thinking… **_In his dream world, everything he thought in his mind seemed to appear before his eyes. As he thought of exactly what the female voice was, the dream world around him seemed to fade to a misty white, and a silhouette stood against the bright foreground, standing parallel to Conroy. It did not look human, as he had expected it to be somehow. By its posture, it seemed to be female. So, he had been right about the figure being female, but its species was still a mystery to him._**

**_As he tried to move closer, the figure suddenly raised her arm, motioning him to stop. He did stop, but not of his own accord. It seemed that this female something was controlling him. She began to speak. "You still don't know who I am, even after you found the newspaper with your birthday and the note? You're not too bright, are you?" Conroy was about to retort to the female's harsh judgment, but as he tried to speak, he felt his mouth lock shut, disabling his ability to speak. Thrashing his still moveable head about, the female spoke again, even louder than before. "You will get a crick in your neck if you continue that distasteful gesture. It isn't good to crack your neck like that." Conroy was able to make out the figure closing her fist before his head shifted. He was now looking at the floor. The female seemed to have control of his eyes, too. Conroy could not move his vision upward. Footsteps rang throughout the quiet dream world. Conroy begged in his head for the madness to stop._**

**_"Ok, I'll make it stop… you're very whiney, aren't you?" Conroy collapsed to the floor in shock, feeling thoroughly violated now that the female could read his thoughts. He was quick to his feet, but the female was no where to be seen. "I'll give you a hint," the voice said again, "that will help you get along in your… search." Her voice was no longer harsh, but neither calm nor soothing. It seemed neutral. "When I'm through, you'll be one step closer, but still many steps away. And this is your first step: Follow the light and darkness, and your search shall go on. Refuse to comply and your path will be gone…

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_**

Conroy's eyes were open in an instant. His dream was over, but the thoughts of it were fresh in his mind. He lay perfectly still, sucking it all in and analyzing the message. He learned about staying still in the position you woke up in after you had a dream if you wanted to remember it. Finally, it all came back to him, and he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck and searching about his room. He was only blankly searching; he had nothing to look for anyway. He lay his feet on the floor, only to find it freezing cold. A shiver went up his spine, and his teeth began to clatter as he realized how cold it had become. He looked toward his skylight vent as if to see the morning light shining through from the roof… but there was none. It was still late, but he had become wide awake. Conroy groaned softly.

This had only happened to him once before when he was a smaller kitten, but it had never really bothered. He just waited until morning until he was tired, and since he had had nothing to do, he just fell back asleep, woke up later and went about his day. If he was going to be searching the parents who had abandoned him, he would have to make the most of the time he had. He was wide awake: why not go for a walk? He crawled on his mattress until he reached his boots, and then took out the newspaper. He had to hide it somewhere, so he collected it and quietly crossed his room, hiding it inside a drawer in one of his makeshift dressers. He wanted to hold onto the note incase he came across someone with similar handwriting. Then, he got his tiny coat, slipped it on, pulled a scarf around him, and snuck down to the lower level of the cellar. As he collected a sack from one corner of the room to use in case he needed to hold something, a voice made him jump.

"Going somewhere, are you?" Conroy had suddenly lost fear of being caught. It was the voice of the youngest living in the cellar, so he had nothing to fear.

"Well, why are YOU up so late, huh, Chip?" Conroy thought that Chip was alone, but as he turned, Doug was standing there, too. They both had their arms crossed, waiting for an answer to their first question. Conroy stood quite stupidly, searching for an answer. Doug started to tap his foot. Conroy then said the following:

"I'm… uh… getting Christmas… gifts… yeah, that's good. It is uh… only a few weeks away, you know, and you gotta… ummm… go out and get 'em early… you know…?"

"No," said Doug quietly, being sure to not wake Tom up. "Tell us what you're really doing down here. We're your friends, you can trust us." Doug turned to nod at Chip, and Chip nodded back. They both grinned lightly, waiting for the real reply. There was none.

Conroy made a mad rush for the crawlspace that led outside, and he succeeded, slipping through perfectly. Doug and Chip didn't even expect it. They were so confused at this reaction, that when they tried to chase him, both fell over the other, landing on the floor with a soft thump. So much for best friends, they thought.

Conroy had finally made it outside. Even he was surprised at his own reaction. He didn't know whether to trust his friends with his dilemma or lie to them, so he just… ran. He didn't want to stop moving, fearing that the two might call Tom and chase him, so he continued down the snowy streets, back to his alleyway. As he trudged down the street, the light snowfall quickly turned into a blizzard. It was getting colder and colder with every step. The wind was becoming harsher, blowing heavy clusters of snow into his face. The snow came to lie on the ground in thicker blankets, and walking was becoming harder. Conroy could barely see what was in front of him, nearly missing the alleyway. He entered the slightly warmer, confined space, shivering down to his tail and completely covered from head to toe with sleet.

He was feeling more tired than when he had walked from the slums back to his house. He had only gone a couple of streets and now he felt as if his legs were going to crumble. He backed up against the wall of the alley, slid down, and closed his eyes for only a moment. Then something wet grazed his face. It felt as if he was being sniffed by…

… Conroy opened his eyes to find a large muzzle very, very close to his. Then, a deep, scratchy voice said, "I think he's waking up. That's good… are you ok?" The muzzle backed away to reveal a giant yellow lab sitting in front of him, it's head cocked to one side. Conroy became aware of what he was seeing and replied.

"Yeah, I'm… oh my God IT'S A DOG!" Conroy turned to run, but realized he was still in the alley. He tried to claw his way up the wall, but the lab grabbed his tail using its teeth. It didn't hurt, but the lab pulled Conroy to the ground and stood over him.

"Don't worry your little… err… tail, my friend. I'm not the cat eating type."

"Neither am I," said another more feminine voice to Conroy's right, "Now get off of him, Jack. You know, you may not be scared of him, but he's sure freaked out by you." Conroy turned his head to see a slightly smaller female chocolate lab, her soft bronze eyes glaring at the other dog. The lab referred to as Jack looked back down at Conroy, back at the chocolate lab, and then frowned.

"I'm just playing with him. I'm not even on top of him… oh fine." Jack raised his head and backed away. The chocolate lab came over, and using her teeth, pulled Conroy to his feet by his scarf.

"Don't worry about Jack; he's just playful, even at his age. By the way, I'm Zoe. What are you doing here all by yourself in this kind of weather?" Conroy, with his heart still pounding from his close encounter with the other dog, hesitated before saying:

"I'm searching for my parents… they abandoned me a long time ago, and I've been searching for them ever since… I guess…" Zoe shook her head, a saddened expression on her face.

"Did you hear that, Jack? This poor kid is searching for his parents…" Jack looked back at Conroy. He seemed concerned as well.

Jack then said, "You shouldn't be sleeping out here in this cold, you could freeze to death, let alone starve with all this snow covering up all the good food around here. You should come with us. We have a nice little den nearby. Hopefully we have room for you to stay… or you could continue on your own, but I don't think that's very smart… what do you say?"

Conroy had always thought that a dog's only intension was to eat a cat, but looking at these two generous Labradors, he felt that not all dogs were bad and not all dogs ate cats. He kept glancing back and forth at each of them. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he had to go with them. A yellow lab, and a chocolate lab, a yellow lab, and a choc… Conroy stopped. He thought back to his dream… "Follow the light and darkness and your search shall go on, refuse to comply and your path will be gone… that's it!" he said quietly under his breath.

"What?" Jack slurred, looking stupidly back at Conroy as if he hadn't been paying attention. Conroy chuckled and then agreed to go with them. As he tried to stand up, however, pain suddenly jolted his legs, sending him back to the ground with a crunch of the snow underneath. Jack and Zoe stopped to check on him. "His legs are probably too tired from him walking… maybe one of us could carry him on our backs or something…" Jack then cleared his throat and glanced at Zoe. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I'll do it…" and with that, Zoe crouched down, let Conroy claw his way onto her back, and finally stood up.

"Hey don't complain," Jack retaliated, "I was the one who had to drag that sack of twigs I found for our fire through the snow earlier today." Zoe rolled her eyes once more, and with their conversation over, they took off into the blizzard toward their shelter. Conroy didn't want to shut his eyes again, especially if he was on the back of a speeding dog. After a short time, Conroy felt warmth wash over him as the two dogs and he entered a small tunnel dug just behind the fence of a large, mansion-like house. He sighed softly as Zoe crouched down once more, allowing him to crawl off her back.

"Welcome to our little… err… shelter, you could say. It's quite cozy, but I'm sure there is room in here somewhere for you." Jack looked about, searching for something, and when he found it, he was quick to bring it over. "This is your bed… it's quite pathetic, though," Pathetic was quite right. Conroy's bed was a cloth sack. _**Well,** _thought Conroy, **_it's better than sleeping on the floor… unless the floor is comfier… _**Now able to move his legs if only a little walked over to his bed and slumped down. It wasn't the greatest bed in the world, but it was suitable for his taste. Conroy looked about his warm surroundings. The little burrow was small, yet still big enough to fit two large dogs and a small cat. The walls were light earthy brown, small rocks jetting out here and there. A small twig fire burned brightly in the center, giving warmth. In one corner was a colorless rug with an assortment of foods: fruit, meat, cheese, and other delicious goodies all piled atop each other. Two larger rugs acted as sleeping pads for the two dogs. It seemed so very much like home, only smaller.

Zoe was laying on one rug, while Jack slowly stepped over Conroy to get to his. As he flopped down onto his rug, he began to speak.

"I know, this probably seems awkward, some random strangers taking you off the street and inviting you into our… 'Home' but we don't need you to pay us back or anything, just to let you know, and you can stay as long as you like or until the blizzard ends. But who knows when that will be…" Zoe nodded.

Conroy smiled at the two of them and replied, "Thanks a lot for helping me out, but I don't think I need to stay for too long, I have other things to do…" Conroy took off his boots, removed his coat and scarf, and set them neatly in a corner. He pulled the note from one of his boots and scanned it once more before returning it.

"What's that?" asked Zoe, glancing over at the note.

"Oh, it's nothing… it's something I'm using that could help me in my search, but it isn't really helping me," Conroy stuffed the note back into its place and sat back down on his cloth sack bed.

"Ok… hey, Jack, when are we going to actually go up to the house? We've been in this burrow for a while now and we still haven't gone up and searched for food. I mean what we have now is ok, I guess, but we need more for the time ahead." She softly scratched behind her ear with her back leg, waiting for a reply, but Jack had already drifted off to sleep, groaning and snoring softly. "Oh well, I'll just have to ask this lazy lump in the morning," she said, laying her own head down.

Conroy had a lot of questions for this couple. He didn't want to just start asking them random questions about their personal lives, so he started off simple. "So… um, when did you and Jack come to Bakersfield? Or were you already living here." Zoe looked up, and with a petite smile, replied that they had recently come, since their old home town hadn't suited them. Eventually, Conroy and Zoe had broached a fairly interesting conversation with one another.

The two talked all through the night, discussing whatever came to mind. Jack just snored.

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**I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter Seven will be coming shortly, and it features a neat suprise... as long as I keep the current plot I have in mind. -Xegrot**


	7. The Raid

**URGENT NOTICE: Be aware that at the end of this chapter, Jack says something that may seem disturbing to some people. I would just like to say this before you read that part. I. DO. NOT. ABUSE. MY. DOGS. Read on until the end of the chapter and you will see what I mean. But please, enjoy!**

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Conroy was the first to awaken the next morning in Jack and Zoe's den; the other two were fast asleep, Zoe tucked into a ball and Jack laying on his side, both softly snoring. Conroy opened his mouth to yawn, got up on all fours, and stretched. Although he and Zoe had spent most of the night getting to know each other, he had slept fairly well. The fire had kept them warm through the night until it burned itself out, and the walls were practically sound proof. It turned out being better than listening to the commotion that went on in the bar above him back home. Zoe had told him that he could take whatever food he wanted, so he took a small portion of beef for himself, chewing on its cold, greasy texture. He didn't really like meat when it was cold, but it would have to do.

It took only a couple hours of waiting for Jack and Zoe to get up, although Zoe was the first of the two, as Conroy had expected. She yawned deeply, fluttered her eyes, and then looked to see Conroy. With a smile, she greeted him. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, I slept great," Conroy replied.

"Well, that's good… oh, yeah, could you do me a huge favor," she asked, stretching her back. "Could you please get some of those twigs in the corner there for a fire? I'm sorry for putting you to work…" Conroy assured her he was completely fine with it, and within a few minutes, a warm fire lit the den. Conroy glanced up at the twirling wisps of smoke.

"Where does the smoke escape?" asked Conroy, searching the low ceiling for some kind of escape system. Zoe walked over and pointed out a couple of tiny holes, practically invisible to him until he looked closer.

"We had to dig these nasty little things ourselves. First, though, we had to dig the actual den, and nearly got caught twice. Then, we had to… uh… 'Salvage' some food so we wouldn't starve. And finally, we had to dig out these little sections of the top so that the smoke from the fire could get through and not choke us to death." Zoe dragged a slab of meat from the corner of the den with her paw, and slowly began to eat. "It's tough being alone out here…" Her bronze eyes glowed brilliantly in the fiery light. "But, at least I have him," she said jokingly, shooting a glance over at Jack.

Jack snorted and whimpered, stretching his limbs and licking his lips at the smell of food. He slowly blinked awake, raising his head and rolling over onto his other side. "Food…" Jack yawned, slowly got onto all fours, and walked over to the food pile, grabbing a slice of ham with his jaws.

"Oh, what am I doing?" said Zoe in surprise, "Go ahead and help yourself to something to eat!"

"No thanks," Conroy replied, laying down on his stomach and staring blankly into the fire. He rested his head on his crossed arms.

"Well why not, there's plenty to go around."

"That isn't the reason…"

"Then what is?" asked Zoe, finishing her question with her mouth full of food. Conroy looked back at her, opening his mouth as if to reply. He actually moved his lips a little, but then clamped his mouth shut, and looked away. Zoe gave him a concerned and somewhat puzzled look. "You're still thinking about that missing family of yours, aren't you?" she asked softly.

"Yeah… It's pretty hard. Even after two years I still just recently found out… that they… uhhh…" Conroy stopped. He didn't want to reveal anything too personal to some _dogs_ he just met, no matter how nice they were.

"They did what?" Zoe asked intently, scooting closer.

"What did what?" Jack had come over, a small bit of ham hanging off his lip. "What've you two been going on about? We need to leave soon y'know…" Zoe looked up at Jack with a small smile, and then glanced back over at Conroy.

"I know something that will take you off your mind for a little," Zoe said, scratching her ear.

"What is it?" replied Conroy, wondering what the dogs had in store.

"You'll see."

---

Conroy pulled on his left rain boot, now fully prepared for whatever the two dogs had in store. Jack had been outside on "lookout", shoving his eye through a hole in the fence their den was dug by and staring blankly at the mansion that stood just a few yards away. Even if it was snowing, it hadn't snowed too hard, so when Conroy stepped outside, he could barely make out the mansion's features.

Lights from the various windows dimly lit up the large house. Snow piled onto the roof, and smoke twirled lightly from the chimney: the fireplace was on. Potted evergreen plants hung from the patio awning, and the pool had been draped over by a large tarp to keep snow from overfilling it. The stucco that plastered the walls was painted with many colors, mostly reds and browns, with the occasional purple to accent the building. It seemed like the perfect place to live, from the outside, at least.

Jack was still staring. Conroy waited, and then pricked his ears up. The sound of a car rumbled into the distance, disappearing into the ambience of the wind. Jack waited for a few more seconds, and then called out to Zoe.

"Their car's just driven off, and there's no movement inside from what I can see… which isn't a lot." Jack squinted and blinked, turning away from the fence to face Conroy. "Ok, kid, here's the plan," Jack said, getting down low and speaking in a light whisper as if people were watching them. "I know it looks like we've got a lot of food right now, but there really isn't a lot. We need more! That's exactly why we're heading up there to get us some food, and what better way to find food than a huge place like that!" He slowly licked his lips, and continued. "Zoe's gonna sit in the driveway and keep watch incase the owners come back too soon. You and I, on the other hand, are going inside. I'll explain the rest of what we need to do when we get up to the house. Zoe, go!"

Zoe darted out from the den, and with a single bound, leaped the wooden fence with incredible ease. There was no doubt: she was built for speed. Conroy leaped up and grabbed the edge of the fence, poking his head over. She was already three quarters across the yard.

"Wow… she's fast!" Conroy complimented, lowering himself onto the other side of the fence. Jack came up to the hole in the wood's surface.

"She always beat me to the bone when we played fetch," Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm way too big to climb this thing, so I'm gonna be late. Wait for me by the pool and stay under something until I get there. I need to go around…" Jack then turned and scrambled around a corner, spraying snow in all directions. Conroy did the same, getting down on all fours and dashing up to the house's backyard. He was excited. He had never done anything like this before, save for the time he was eight months and had stolen a wallet from an unsuspecting woman. It hadn't gone well, since he had gotten himself bashed over the head with a purse. But he had no need to worry about getting bashed over the head with purses in this kind of heist. Jack had said there was no one around, so he figured it would be easy.

Conroy finally reached the inner fence of the mansion's property, leaping over it and landing on the outdoor pool tile. He scanned the area. The only living things back here were the evergreen plants hanging from the patio ceiling. There was a barbeque stand, covered with a tarp like the pool, a few planters lining the wall, some dead bushes, and a broken drainpipe leading to the roof. The sliding glass door that led inside appeared to be locked. A curtain behind it hid the interior of the house. Conroy heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Jack trotting toward him. He panted lightly as he stopped to catch his breath, his chest rising up and down. After a minute, he was ready.

"Ok… now…" Jack looked about and spotted the drainpipe. "Quick, get up that pipe and in through that window," There was, in fact, a window there, just to the left of the long pipe. It was pretty high up: the third story. "I hope it's unlocked. If not, try the other windows if you can get to them. Now go and unlock this sliding door!"

Conroy took off, making his way to the pipe, and with one dive, latched onto it with his drawn claws. Hopefully, this didn't leave any evidence of their break in. Retracting his claws, he carefully maneuvered upward, paw over paw. The pipe began to sway without warning. He heard Jack gasp below, and he shouted, "Don't fall!" Conroy latched on tighter, attempting to keep his grip steady. It was no use. His paws slipped, and he began to fall. He was too shocked to scream or cry out. Was it ending already?

Instead of feeling the rough sting of concrete on his head, he heard a sharp yelp as he landed onto a soft mass. Jack had caught him. But, it came at a price. Jack's legs gave way, and he fell to the ground. Conroy slid off onto the tile, and then got to his feet. "Jack! Are you ok?!" Conroy knelt next to the large dog. His eyes were closed, and he didn't make a sound. He laid a hand on Jack's head, shaking it lightly and saying, "Come on, get up!" Jack trembled for a moment, and then blinked awake. He cringed, attempting to get to his feet, but he slid back onto the ground. Conroy stood back, allowing Jack to gain some air.

"Oh… I'm ok, I guess. Are you ok, though?" Jack asked in a raspy voice, shifting his eyes in a puppy-dog stare to look at Conroy.

"I'm ok… you're hurt, aren't you?" Conroy became worried.

"Nah… it's just these old bones… I'm not the puppy I used to be. Zoe's better off, being young and all. I've just had too much. But, I can get up…" The poor, old Labrador finally rose to his feet, still slightly slouching. He would pull through. He was tough. "Now… don't bother with me. Try again… just don't fall this time, ok?"

With a hint of concern and worry for his new friend, Conroy replied, "Ok… I'll do my best." This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. With new determination, Conroy began to scale the pipe once more. He took a glance down at Jack, who was now standing up fully. He didn't want to have Jack go through that again… it might seriously hurt him if he did catch Conroy again. It might even break his back and kill him. Conroy looked forward, a glare plastered on his face. He had to get up. For Jack.

He reached the swaying point where the pipe hung out the most. He hadn't realized how much it had separated from the wall. It was a swinging death trap. Conroy inched his way up, but he couldn't stop looking down. Jack had moved closer to the pipe as if to catch him if he fell again. Thinking of this, Conroy actually missed his grip, and dangled helplessly. He cried out in fear, and Jack poised to catch him again. He shouted down, "Jack, MOVE!" Jack stayed put. "MOVE…" Conroy felt his grip loosen, and he slipped. Jack crouched low.

Conroy caught the end of the dangling pipe at the last second, and with the rest of his strength, clawed his way up as fast as he could. The pipe swayed furiously, but his grip help fast as he reached the window. He leaped, and caught the edge of the window sill with his claws. He looked back down and noticed that a rung holding the pipe to the wall had broken. The metal pipe came crashing down. Jack moved backwards, but as he did, the metal clipped the end of his nose. The sound of the pipe hitting the ground was drowned by Jack's pained howls. He shook his head furiously along the ground, blood oozing from his muzzle. Conroy grimaced. Everything wrong seemed to be happening to Jack. After a couple of howls, Jack slumped onto the ground, panting as the blood stopped flowing. There was a small puddle of it on the tile, slowly freezing over.

"Damn thing!" Jack shouted into the sky, throwing his paws over his scratched nose. "That stings like bloody hell! Ugh… Conroy, get down here and open this door. Only God knows who heard me screaming like that…" He looked around, and then covered his eyes with his paws, whimpering.

"I'll be down soon! Just hold on!" Conroy scrambled up onto the edge of the sill. Surprisingly, the window was in fact open. Jack had a good eye for these things, even if he claimed he didn't. He slipped under the low opening he had made, and then closed it shut behind him. He surveyed his surroundings. He stood in a decorated hallway, lined with small tables, potted indoor plants, and pictures of abstract art and landscape photos. Conroy carefully edged his way down the hallway, sticking close to shadows and darting from table to table, taking care not to knock its contents onto the floor. The house seemed confusing. As he moved around on the current floor, he kept passing similarly decorated halls, leading him to different rooms. There were bathrooms, multi-colored bedrooms, and even a small dining room. The only thing he couldn't find was the stairs.

At last, he came across a stairwell that twisted and winded down into a grand hallway. This must have been the main stairway that led between the ground floor, the second floor, and the third. A golden chandelier hung on the mural covered dome ceiling above. It was utterly amazing. Conroy was so absorbed by this, that as he made his way toward the landing on the stairs, he was unable to spot a slippery something crossing his path…

Conroy tripped, falling headfirst onto the first step and crashing bottom-first onto the second. He tumbled head over heels for what seemed like an eternity. His arms and legs began to sting. Rug burn from the carpet lining the stars prickled at the back of his neck. And finally, after falling for so far, Conroy landed on his back onto the ground floor's marble tile. He slid for a few moments before halting directly underneath the brilliant chandelier above. He let out a great, "Whew!" rose to his feet, dusted himself off, and looked about. "That was fun… but where do I go now?" There were four main hallways that branched off from the main hall. Behind him was the front door, but he needed to open the sliding glass door, which had to be at the back of the house. Conroy took a passage that led off to his right, passing by a kitchen and finally discovering the curtain he had seen from outside. He pushed it aside, and sure enough, there was Jack, lying on the ground and whimpering as Zoe stood by him, licking his nose. Conroy then reached up, lifted the lock that kept the door shut, and opened it.

Zoe looked up at him in surprise and said, "I didn't know you were in there! Nice work! Jack said that his nose got scraped by that falling drainpipe," She took a glance at the fallen metal pipe, and continued. "He didn't say where you were, though. Come on, Jack, get up. I need to go back to see if they're coming." Jack nodded at her, his eyes slightly puffy, and rose up. He then stepped past Conroy and into the house.

"Let's go, kid," he said in a sharp tone, shooting a stare back at Conroy.

"Ok…" Conroy replied. He was confused. Was Jack… angry at him? Was he just frustrated that he had been hurt? He couldn't tell which be he could tell as he walked behind him that he was mad at something. Conroy decided to ask with an apology.

"Jack…" he started, and the Labrador stopped, not turning around. "I'm sorry… I didn't know that the pipe would break, and I shouldn't have fallen in the first place. I didn't mean to hurt you, really… I just-" Jack had cut him off. He had turned around and pushed his head softly into Conroy's chest: something along the lines of a hug. He then backed away. There were small tears in his eyes. He then replied.

"You've got it all wrong, kid. I ain't mad at you; it's just something that's on my mind. Painful stuff happens to me a lot… but it brings back some other painful memories. That's one of the reasons I left my hometown with Zoe." He backed away a little more. Conroy felt relieved that he wasn't mad at him, but he couldn't help but ask:

"What kind of memories?"

Jack froze. He looked up with a cold stare that made Conroy uneasy. "I'd rather not say…"

Jack suddenly turned about, ears perked and head low. He backed towards Conroy. Then, a shadow appeared on the wall in the hallway in front of them. Footsteps drew near.

Someone was coming.

---

**Author's Note: I hope all of you have enjoyed this chapter, but let me say again: I DO NOT ABUSE MY ANIMALS. And I have no reason to. What Jack says; I am referring to some events that took place in his real life that do not involve abuse from me. I would never do that and have no intention to. All of this will be resolved in the next chapter. Until then, stay in your seats! -Xegrot**


	8. And the Night Grows Cold

**Author's Note: I apologize to the fullest extent for the massive wait, for those of you that have been dying to see what happens next. I will not waste a minute longer of your time, so here we go…**

---

… Someone was coming. In half a second, Jack and Conroy had dashed across the kitchen were gone in a flash, safely hidden in the shadows of a nearby pantry. As Jack poked his nose under the crack in the door to get a glance about, Conroy sat on his rear, staring up in awe at the massive piles of food. His tail swayed back and forth as he spotted all kinds of delicious goodies stuffed into the shelves, each more delicate than the last.

"Wow," Conroy whispered, "The food in here could last you guys for weeks on end!" Jack shushed him with a quick snort, ducking his head lower to look. Soft, fleshy footsteps echoed through the crack in the door, and they were closing in slowly…

---

The balding man looked about, swearing in his head that he had heard someone walking about downstairs, not to mention a metallic crash and a howl from outside. It had taken him at least ten minutes to get from his room in the attic to the kitchen. He had thrown on his black butler's jacket and pants, but had left his shoes behind in a rush. He had also not hesitated to retrieve his pale blue polished magnum from his drawer, just in case it was a burglar, or worse…

He glanced here and there with his dark, glassy eyes, his magnum held in the air with one hand, and the other hand behind his back. He stepped about the kitchen, aiming his gun around each corner before going around. There seemed to be no one. Everything was silent. Then…

There was a whisper from nowhere, echoing through the kitchen. Then, there was a snort. The man twirled on his heels, holding onto his gun with both hands now. Sweat began to drip off his brow as he edged his way about the kitchen table. A scratching sound pierced his ears, like nails on a chalkboard. It was coming from the pantry…

---

Jack was up on his hind legs, attempting to pull down a bag of meat on one of the shelves with his paws. His nails accidentally slipped on a metal plate holding the bag, and the sound blasted through Conroy's ears. He hissed, smacking his paws over both ears and crouching down in agony. Jack cringed.

"Sorry…" He stretched out his neck to snatch the bag's tied end, but then, a click…

…And a boom. The door splintered, and a section of the shelf directly next to Jack cracked and fell, nearly crushing Conroy with its contents. When he looked up, Jack's eyes were bulging, his jaws clutched around the bag. He pulled it down and barked, "Run!"

Conroy obeyed, turned around, and leaped through the large hole left in the door. A man shouted, and more shots rang out, smashing a pot near Conroy's head as he darted through the open sliding door. Jack thundered through the door behind him, knocking what was left of it down and ramming the man in the back of the legs. He shouted and fell backwards, his gun sliding across the kitchen tile. Jack didn't bother to look back.

---

"He _saw_ you?! And you _broke_ stuff?!" Zoe was furious. Jack had almost never caused this much destruction before. A drain pipe broken, a sliding glass door cracked, a pot shattered, a fallen shelf, and a splintered door was what Jack told her as he and Conroy sat on their backsides in front of Zoe back at the burrow. Animal Control had been called, and they were searching the entire mansion grounds for any sign of them. If they went back, they would be in trouble… lots of trouble.

"I cannot believe you! You promised to be careful! I trusted you and now we have Animal Control looking for us! What do you have to say for yourself?!" Zoe waited. Her expression was fierce. Jack lowered his head and said nothing. As Conroy looked to him, he noticed his left eye was twitching slightly. It was watery too.

"I blame my bad eye…" Jack started, but Zoe interrupted.

"You _always _blame your bad eye, Jack! You blamed it for the time you ran into that broken window lying against the back wall!"

"You hadn't even met me then…"

"You blamed it for not seeing the pool and falling in!"

"You saw how far he threw that toy I had to get it!"

"You even blamed it on the time you bit Br-"

"SHUT UP! Shut UP." Jack roared. He was up on all fours in that instant, his teeth bared at Zoe. He growled. She shrunk back into a corner.

"Some things just slip out… I'm…" Zoe laid down on the burrow floor and put her head on her paws.

Jack's hair slowly laid back, and he returned to a calmer state. He trotted over quickly and nuzzled her, quietly saying, "No, I'm sorry… I overreacted." He then walked outside. Conroy looked back to Zoe, and she picked her head up.

"Go and talk to him." Zoe smiled feebly, and then put her head down to sleep. "It'll be good for him. He can get it out of his system." Conroy nodded, and walked outside into the frosty air. The sky was becoming a deep blue, and reddish clouds rumbled overhead. Conroy looked around for Jack, but he couldn't spot him, even though the air was clear. He then spotted tracks leading into the street ahead. He followed them, and sure enough, Jack was sitting alone near a lamppost, leaning against it. He sighed as Conroy approached.

"Bryan was his name," Jack started without hesitation. Conroy walked up beside him and sat down. "He was one of my owners. Friendly boy. I really liked him. The other ones, besides the parents, just squished me." Conroy chuckled, and Jack did, too. "Ahh… I used to live in a town called Corona. Nice place, although it was hot a lot of the time. Good thing we had a pool… you'd never see me go near one, though. I hate water, mostly because I'm a bit too big to swim.

"I loved the house, and the family… and Zoe, too. But, ever since my eye got bad, things changed. It agitated me so much, I would get angry for no reason, and I would misjudge things. That was why I didn't dodge the drain pipe. I couldn't exactly see it. And I knocked that man down because I didn't even see him standing there. I know it's my fault, but I still blame my eye."

Conroy interrupted. "So… Zoe doesn't think it's that bad… right?" Jacked nodded. "Well, then why don't you tell her otherwise?"

"She won't believe me, and as far as I know, she doesn't trust me much after… what I did." Conroy leaned closer to listen.

"It was late one night and I heard someone coming downstairs in the dark. My eye was itching me, so I was scratching at it and forgot about the footsteps. Next thing I know, something was touching me, so I turned around and I-" Jack stopped short. He bowed his head and shook it. He took a deep breath, and continued. "He was so shocked; all he could do was fall to the floor and hold his hand. I backed away, but then I ran past him as fast as I could. Zoe came downstairs all sleepy-eyed, but I told her what happened and said that Dad would be furious. I was scared, so I busted the front door down, and Zoe and I ran. Bryan was the last person in my family I ever saw."

Conroy sat in thought. He felt sorry for Jack. "I bet they miss you," he said, "Even if you hurt Bryan."

Jack looked over with a deep frown, and hesitantly nodded. "We've been away from them for almost a year. They probably believe that we're dead or lost forever… I've actually considered going back, just to cheer them up. I only hope that Bryan would forgive me…"

"Judging by how you described him, I'm sure he would." Conroy gave a small grin. Jack smiled back.

"Aw, so cute."

Conroy instantly jumped back, his hair raising. He hissed. Across the street, silhouetted in shadow by a dark alleyway, was the Black dog. More shadows surrounded him. Conroy assumed that they were friends of his.

"Con… what's going on?" Jack asked in curiosity. "Who are they?"

"They're not friendly, that's for sure." Conroy bent down onto all fours. He bared his teeth and hissed again. The dogs in the alley laughed, joking at him.

"Whoa, look at those muscles!"

"Think he's tasty?!"

"I get his head!"

The Black dog removed himself from the shadows, smiling. "Well," he said with dignity, "What are you waiting for, Labrador? Kill it." Jack turned to Conroy and gave a concerned expression. Suddenly, it was gone, replaced by a lusty, hungry look.

"My pleasure." Jack edged slowly in between Conroy and the Black dog. Conroy shook his head.

"You… you traitor…" He couldn't believe it. Jack was in league with his mortal enemy. "I trusted you…" He hunkered down and covered his eyes.

Jack's lusty expression vanished, and he leaped at Conroy. He stopped short and skidded on the sidewalk, blocking Conroy from the other dogs. He growled menacingly.

"A cat lover. Pity." The Black dog clicked his teeth. The three other large dogs emerged, taking their positions to surround Conroy and Jack. "These are my minions. The blonde one is Randy. You can call the brown one Scrap. And the tan one is Gregor. They're hungry."

"Dirty strays always are." Jack commented.

The Black dog frowned. "Kill him."

The action began. Randy, who was to Jack's right, leaped and knocked the lab to the ground. Conroy took a flying slash, ripping the dog's ear. He howled in pain, and Conroy darted to Jack's side. Jack rose quickly, snarled, and bounded at Scrap, who was running at him as well. They jumped, met in mid air, and landed in a struggling heap of fur in the snow. Blood began to spatter, but not from Jack. He was really tearing the other dog to pieces. Randy and Gregor decided to gang up. They ran at Jack, and with brute force, flung him into the air. He crashed into the lamppost and hit the ground hard. He did not move.

---

"Conroy! Conroy! Where are yah, kid?!" Tom was getting worried. Chip, Doug and he had been out for nearly eight hours, searching the snowbound streets for any signs of the runaway. "Why didn't you kids tell me he ran off?!" The two boys threw their arms up over their faces at Tom's sudden turn on them.

"We though he'd come back!" they said in unison, lowering their arms. Tom rolled his eyes.

"You'll NEVER know what that nut does next… Conroy, where are yah?!" He began to walk off without the two, but they caught up and closely followed. All of a sudden, Tom pricked his ears up higher. "Do you kids hear that?" They listened, but then shook their heads. "I'll be back in a few minutes, so just stay here and don't leave! Understand?" Without another word, he bounded off into the distance, leaving Doug and Chip far behind.

---

Conroy stared at Jack, mouth agape, and suddenly felt a maddening urge to harm the dogs as much as he could. His vision blurred red. His hair stood farther on end than ever. His claws unsheathed and dug into the snow. He snarled once, and then pounced. He landed atop Gregor, knocking him over, and sunk his teeth into his neck. The dog yelped and struggled to get free. Randy grabbed Conroy's tail with his teeth, but got a face full of claws instead. He stepped back, howling in agony, rubbing his eyes with his paws.

He went back to attack the Gregor, but he had slipped away and was now bounding down the street. Suddenly, the Black dog roared, and with one quick leap, pinned Conroy to the ground. He tried to nip at the dog's nose, but it was no use.

"I have you now," the dog whispered, and he opened his jaws.

"Stay away from the boy!" A voice yelled. Instead of pain, Conroy was suddenly free, and something was climbing on the Black dog's back, ripping and slashing. From the mass of deep red fur, Conroy knew it was Tom. Conroy took this opportunity to go to Jack's side. He tapped the lab on the shoulder, and Jack lifted his head. All he could say was "Ow…" before he laid back on the ground.

"Get up! I need your help!" Conroy shook Jack harder, and after a moment, he rose to his feet, shaking.

"That hurt… Uh oh…" Jack glanced over at the struggle between the dog and Tom. Conroy turned around. Suddenly, as if he had been only playing with him, the Black dog ripped Tom off his back and smashed him against the wall with extreme force. Tom's head slumped to the side.

"NO!" Conroy roared. The Black dog turned to Conroy and smiled. He began to run away. "GET BACK HERE YOU COWARD!" Conroy screamed even louder, but Jack snatched him by the arm and dragged him back. "Let me go! LET ME GO! TOM!" Conroy slipped free of Jack's grip and kneeled at Tom's side. He took Tom's head in his hands and shook him. "Tom?! Can you hear me?!" A tears streamed down his face. There was no response. He shook Tom a little harder, and his eyes fluttered open. Blood was oozing from his mouth and onto Conroy's chest, but he didn't mind.

"Thank… God… you're ok, boy… Why'd you run… why?" Tom's eyes rolled up, and stopped. His head became dead weight in Conroy's hands.

Jack only stared as Conroy dug his face into Tom's chest, sobbing. Whoever the cat with the red fur was, he meant something important to Conroy. Something caught Jack's eye, and he turned to his right to see Randy speeding at the two cats, his teeth bared. "Hey!" Jack barked, but the blonde dog didn't stop. With a final jump, Jack knocked heads with the large beast. He was able to shake it off fine, but Randy had dropped like a fly to the ground. They were safe now.

Conroy had paid no attention to this. Jack shook his head as he walked over to the brown mutt, Scrap. He was bleeding from head to toe, and his tongue was hanging halfway out of his mouth. He was breathing slowly, but was having excessive difficulty doing so. He was in great pain; suffering. Jack knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to save him.

"I'm going to regret this… I'm sorry…" Jack took a single paw, laid it on Scrap's throat, closed his eyes, and slashed. "… really sorry." He turned away and opened his eyes to look at his paw. A single smear of blood lined his pads, and his claws dripped profusely. He cringed and dug his paw in the snow. He didn't feel like licking it off, nor did he want to. He had committed to an act of murder, and he didn't want to remember.

---

Doug and Chip were alone. They were cold, tired, and most certainly hungry, but orders were orders, and Tom had told them to wait. To make the minutes pass faster, the two had engaged in a few humorous activities, like Rock-Paper-Scissors, Tic-Tack-To in the snowy ground, and Find the Yellow Snow. Other than that, they had just sat there… doing nothing.

"I'm bored," Chip said suddenly, looking up at the cool blue sky.

"I know, don't rub it in…" Doug raised his legs and pulled his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. "I wonder what he heard," queried Doug, looking back down at the street. "Whatever it was it seemed urgent."

Suddenly, the sound of rushing footsteps filled the night. Doug raised his short ears and listened. He could hear panting, too.

"Dog!" He grabbed Chip by his arm, and in an instant, they had darted behind a dumpster leaning against the building to their right. Sure enough, a large black Doberman came bounding up the street. It had blood on its teeth and lips… and it was smiling. It completely missed them, and the cats were grateful it had not seen them.

However, the Black dog stopped. It sniffed at the air, and then licked its lips. "Cats… more…" it whispered, sniffing at the ground. It followed the scent the cats had left while running, and slowly it approached the dumpster. All of a sudden, the dog gagged. "Garbage! Disgusting… no cats here…" Doug and Chip waited for the dog's footsteps to disappear before coming out from their hiding place.

"Did you see the blood on its lips?" Doug asked, and Chip nodded. "Come on! My dad could be in trouble… or worse!" He cast the worst thought aside, however, knowing his father could handle himself…

---

"Conroy…" Jack was now at Conroy's side. He was still holding on to Tom. "Conroy come away from there… you can't stay."

"He can't be…" Conroy's voice was thick from crying.

"We need to go, kid."

"I'm not gonna leave him… no…."

"If you won't get away from there, then I'll make you," Jack said in a stern tone. He latched on to the scruff of Conroy's neck with his jaws and began to pull him away. Conroy tried to fight him, but it was no use. With his last bit of reach, he closed Tom's eyes.

When they were far enough away, Jack released Conroy, and the cat turned on him. "Why didn't you help?! You could have saved him!" Conroy balled his paws into fists and struck a blow to Jack's chest. He only sat there, staring down at his distraught friend. Conroy looked up with an oppressive glare, but only before his eyes welled with tears again. He shut his eyes tightly, curled up into a ball on the ground, and tried to cry again. He barley got a tear out. He could only lie there now.

Jack couldn't help but feel sorry for his friend. He lay down in the snow next to him and scooted closer. He put his head down next to Conroy's. "It'll be ok…" Jack started, but he stopped, knowing that it probably wouldn't help at this time. Jack pricked his ears up and turned to see Zoe come over the hill behind him. She gasped at the carnage and sat down, unable to move. She was mortified.

Conroy looked up at last to see Doug and Chip come from around the corner. Chip only fell back onto the ground and stared, jaw wide open. Doug cried out for his father and sprinted to his side. After a few moments, he began to shake and tremble; then he began to wail. Conroy buried his face in the snow once more and shut his ears.

The bitter night grew colder, as did the souls of the dogs and cats who were there that night, witnesses or not.

---

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for those of you who liked Tom, although he wasn't such a big character in my story. He will be soon, however, and he will play an important role in Conroy's quest for his family, even if he is deceased. And for those of you wondering, no, my dog did not bite me and run away from home. He does however have a slight eye problem. Be on the look out for Chapter 8, which will be here soon.**


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